


A Pebble of the Brook

by Vector



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Forced to Watch, Guro, M/M, Multi, Superhuman Healing Abilities, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vector/pseuds/Vector
Summary: "I will give you... despair... and death."It was pure hubris for V to think Nero could have a chance against Urizen. Now he can only watch as Urizen proves his power by torturing Nero, and that too is another sort of torture.
Relationships: Nero/Urizen (Devil May Cry), Nero/V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Teratophilia Trade 2021





	A Pebble of the Brook

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semjaza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semjaza/gifts).



"I will give you... despair... and death."

V's heart drops in his chest when he hears the echoing voice before he turns the corner, but it's followed by the sounds of metal striking against crystal; Nero hasn't fallen yet. In fact, there's anger in addition to contempt in Urizen's voice, so he's likely even done some damage. Perhaps there's a chance Nero can win after all, even without the Sparda or Yamato—

As if in immediate admonishment for his hubris in thinking so, V barely manages to take in the battlefield before Nero is knocked away with a root the size of a lamp post, crying out in pain as he tumbles over the bloodied stone. V thinks he hears a bone or two snap. A fall that would be fatal for a human, certainly, but nothing to keep someone like Nero down for more than a minute or two. But, of course, even a few seconds of struggling on the ground is a leisurely amount of time for Urizen's tendrils to wrap around Nero and prevent his recovery, constricting his chest, snapping more ribs and cutting off his breathing, lifting him in the air so his limbs flail helplessly.

"Nero," V breathes before he's aware of it, lucky only in that his lungs hold insufficient air for it to be a shout.

It's still enough to draw attention, and Griffon behind him flaps his wings in alarm. "Not the time to stand around taking in the scenery, V! Let's scram before we end up the same way!"

But it's too late. Urizen's head is turned towards them. Seeking, though V is not certain if he sees with eyes or solely sound—or perhaps he has some third supernatural sense from the roots and blood that have merged with his body and everything around them. Regardless, if there's one small mercy, it's that he's turned his attention away from Nero, for now.

V hesitates. He's not sure why, and it likely wouldn't have mattered if he hadn't. Still, he's very aware of the moment too long it takes before he lifts his arm towards Griffon to flee.

A root tendril slaps Griffon out of the air and out of his material form before he can take hold, anyway.

" _You_ ," Urizen says, and if he _had_ visible eyes V would say he felt them boring into his soul. Their soul...? "You brought this boy here? This _human_?"

"He's hardly human," V responds smoothly, with far more confidence than he feels. He drops his hand back to his cane and leans on it casually, even as he feels Urizen's power press on him like a physical force and Qliphoth tendrils slither and shift towards him. "If you haven't noticed that much, you're lost more in perception than you've gained power."

Urizen growls. "You dare say that to me? _You?_ " V flinches slightly, though not at his anger. If Urizen says too much here, Nero may begin forming theories on who V is, and his job will be much more difficult. Of course, that's assuming they both get out of this situation alive, somehow, so perhaps there are more immediate concerns.

"I dare," V says, with a faint, fatalistic smile.

"V," Nero groans, straining at the roots that bind him. "Don't—"

Urizen's attention snaps back to Nero for a moment, and V instinctively uses the chance to attempt escape. Shadow rises under his feet, and he glides a good meter or two before being clotheslined by a root shooting across his path like a lance. Better than he expected, in truth.

With the wind knocked out of him and in his current state V has no hope of recovery. He coughs, flakes of his skin mingling with spit and blood, and wonders if he'll ever stand up again. Urizen affords him the same treatment as Nero, regardless; roots wrap his body and lift him from the ground. ...Well, perhaps not the same treatment. He can't be held nearly as tightly as Nero is, which means Urizen is taking deliberate care to not kill him.

Urizen brings V in closer to Nero, looking them over both at once. V takes the opportunity to assess Nero's condition—not as bad as he'd thought, or perhaps he's healed some already. He seems lucid and in one piece, his eyes clear as he looks at V with obvious worry. Of course, his own prognosis is likely significantly less encouraging.

It's only belatedly that V realizes Urizen was observing their exchange of glances and feels his heart sink again, for reasons he can't explain.

"Human," Urizen echoes. "Whatever his blood, he's merely human. He is weak. And only a human would have such concern for... trivialities." 

"I'll show you we—aah!" Nero yells as the roots tighten to cut him off.

"Nero!" This time V's alarm is obvious even though his voice still doesn't carry. Urizen turns to him again.

"What stories have you told him, I wonder. You've clearly lead him by the nose quite effectively." Urizen leans forward, Qliphoth tendril's pulling V's head back so he can look up at him looming above, huge even while suspending V a few stories in the air. "And yet you can't even use him properly. You've succumbed to weakness so quickly."

The worry that has been sitting deep in V's chest begins to take a firmer shape at the tone of Urizen's voice.

"...Despair," Urizen repeats, straightening. "And then death. There's no need to kill you quickly. Nothing can stop me. You'll _both_ experience a despair that will show you just how wrong you are."

The roots holding him loosen, but V can barely move even unrestrained, and he collapses back against them. Their grip firms again, but the position is—more comfortable? Reclining and supported, he at least doesn't feel like the last of his life could fall away at any moment.

He also hears the sound of an explosion as a Devil Breaker shatters—Nero making a much more energetic attempt to escape, of course. Still, when V manages to clear his vision, he sees that Nero's struggles were ultimately futile as well. His chest is no longer constricted, but his arms and legs are all held tightly by roots, wires spooled out of the socket of his Devil Breaker and twisted with them, his body suspended with his limbs spread wide. 

"What the _hell_ is he talking about, V?" Despite apparently being in less risk of immediate death, Nero's eyes have become more frantic.

"I... am not entirely certain," V responds, voice low. That's true enough.

"Then I'll explain," Urizen says, and he turns to Nero. "You think you care about this... shade of a man, but you know _nothing_ about him. Your foolishness in following him has only lead you to your doom." And then to V. "And you act as if you care about this _child_ , but you are shallow and selfish, even as you are." Another root tendril rises over Urizen's shoulder, this one sharp and bladed at the tip, shining in the eerie light as it moves towards them, slowly.

Abruptly, the blade covers the rest of the distance and strikes Nero rapidly and repeatedly, and V's voice catches in his throat in horror. When the root withdraws, though, the wounds aren't serious, just shallow slashes across Nero's chest and down his thighs.

"Nng. What...?" Nero growls, tugging at the roots holding him. It's a fruitless effort, but more roots still slowly wind up his body to join them.

—No, not to join them; rather than holding Nero, the new tendrils are sliding under the raw, blooded tears in his clothes, and ripping them further. Tugging scraps of fabric free until Nero's skin is bare.

"You will soon know how powerless and misguided you are," Urizen's voice comes again. "And be shamed, and afraid."

"Screw you," Nero spits, even as the last of his pants fall away. "You think I'm going to be afraid of being _naked_?"

It's bluster. Aside from anything else, V has seen Nero _is_ shy about that sort of thing, Even at this distance and covered in blood, V can see more color in his face. In another circumstance it might be cute.

Urizen's attention seems to be on V, though, so he notices V's focus rather than calling Nero's bluff. "Do you enjoy what you see?"

Is that Urizen's angle? "And what, precisely, am I meant to enjoy?" V says, carefully.

"Nothing, as yet. But you'll enjoy watching his pain. And _you_ —" back to Nero, again—"will learn precisely what sort of man you have allied yourself with."

Nero takes too long with his comeback, and whatever he's about to say is interrupted with a scream when thin bladed roots wrap his legs. The slices aren't shallow, this time, cutting his broad thighs to ribbons. V can see glimpses of bone. Only for a short time, though, as the flesh begins to knit back together quickly.

At least Nero has been distracted from embarrassment at his nudity, V supposes.

Unfortunately, Both his and V's attention is brought back to it when the roots twine higher. The blades are kept free of any delicate areas, for now, but the brush of the angular, stone-like surface against them is likely enough of a threat.

"What are you planning..." V mutters, low, almost to himself, watching as a tendril slides between Nero's legs.

"That should be apparent by now, I would think." Urizen responds in any case.

Before V can form any response to that, the tendril between Nero's legs pushes _in_ , rippling and bulging as it moves, an alarming amount of its length vanishing inside him in an instant. 

...It's—it's not erotic. It shouldn't be. V is not entirely sure it even counts as sexual penetration. Judging from the blood pouring freely down Nero's thighs, the root is piercing its way through his body like a skewer. And yet—the tendril withdraws and then presses into him further, the motion suggestive. It only becomes more so as it continues, thrusting obscenely over and over, gratuitous and going on far past the point there could be any other intent to it other than the obvious.

Nero's face is contorted with pain, but he's biting his lip so he doesn't scream. If V ignores the reality of the situation, and lets his vision fall out of focus as it keeps threatening to—

It's depraved to even imagine it. To even _think_ of imagining it. And yet V can feel his body reacting. It's some cruel irony that when it's the last thing he wants, when he barely has the strength to stand, some part of his anatomy is evidently still quite capable of standing. Or perhaps that irony is just who he is.

Nero is in no state to notice, of course. Urizen certainly does, though, somehow—perhaps that was even his aim. However, all he does in response is to raise the tendrils holding Nero's legs higher, so V has a very clear view of what's happening to him. A whimper of some sort escapes Nero as he's moved.

V can't look away as the root slides in and out of Nero's ass, its motions slick with blood. Most of it is fresh—Nero's—but some of it is dark, the older blood running through the tree. It's a painful assault, certainly, tearing through skin and flesh and likely intestines. But that's still nothing fatal for someone like Nero. In fact, V thinks he can see Nero's body begin to heal around the tendril as he watches, less and less of his own blood flowing. V wonders if he can heal completely with it still inside him—if his body will reform itself around the intrusion. If Urizen continued like that for longer—would the pain fade? Would it become only a thick, slick tendril buried deep inside Nero, thrusting inexorably in and out? ...Would Nero, perhaps, begin to feel some pleasure...?

V is sick to his stomach, but his dick is hard and aching in his pants. There's nothing he can do about it. Any of it.

Urizen doesn't simply continue like that, of course. He pauses to take in V's state with a grunt of satisfaction. After that, the root moves more violently, driving in with a speed and force V's eyes can barely follow. Nero lets out a moist hiccup, and V's eyes are drawn back to his face.

When V sees the blood drip from Nero's lips, at first he thinks he's bitten his tongue. And perhaps he's done that as well; likely he did a while ago. But the real issue becomes apparent when V sees the tip of a root in Nero's mouth, and slowly realizes in horror that the choked, labored noises he's making are because it's coming up through his throat. Coming up through... all of him. 

The realization sends a rush of heat through V's body, and his skin feels sensitive where the roots are holding him, even as Nero struggles to breathe, body jerking instinctively against the roots restraining him and ineffectually trying to push the intruding object out of his mouth.

"No," V says, helplessly.

Urizen rips the root all the way back out of Nero, leaving him bleeding and coughing and empty as he turns to V.

"No?" Urizen asks, voice booming. "Is this not what you want? You care only about your own. own pleasure. You bind others to you to achieve your selfish desires." 

There's echoes of something in that, some meaning that V doubts Urizen consciously intended. Despite the situation, V chuckles.

"'Love seeketh only self to please,   
To bind another to its delight,  
Joys in another's loss of ease,  
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.'" 

V can't tell if Urizen recognizes it, but he does scowl, mouth full of pointed teeth twisting. It's a small thing, but enough to make V feel like he still has some power here.

Meanwhile, Nero's organs must be sorting themselves out into a functional arrangement, because his coughs get less alarmingly wet-sounding and eventually taper off.

"Didn't know... it was poetry hour," he croaks. "Sorry... I think I may be losing my voice, so I won't be able to do a reading."

Urizen roars in thoughtless anger, and V almost laughs, incredulous. Nero is certainly quite the man, to be making quips after that. V thinks the warmth rising in his chest this time is affection.

"That's alright, Nero. I wasn't finished." V's voice, in contrast, is smooth as silk.

"'Love seeketh not itself to please,  
Nor for itself hath any care,  
But for another gives its ease,  
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.'

"Shall we build a Heaven in your Hell, then, my dear demon king?" Perhaps it's because he has nothing left to lose, but V finds the words come easy, now. "If you'll call us clods, that makes you a simple pebble. Here you are, with all the power you could imagine, struggling to convince one human boy not to care about someone. And I don't think you'll succeed."

One of the roots around V's chest slithers up to wrap around his neck, intimate but threatening. "Perhaps I should just kill you both, then." A thoroughly predictable response.

"You could," V says, easily.

"Hey! Could not!" Nero breaks in, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

V smiles, but continues as if Nero hadn't spoken. "But you could have done that at any point. Are you ready to admit defeat so soon?"

It's transparent manipulation. It should be simple to tell that. But perhaps the parts of him that went to Urizen lacked the capability for such subtlety, or perhaps Urizen can't allow himself to concede failure even knowing it's manipulation.

Either way, when they remain alive for a few more seconds, V continues. "If you're so certain he'll succumb to hatred and despair when he knows the truth, why don't you leave him to me?" He says it with much more confidence than he feels. "You don't need to bother with a 'pathetic human.' And _I_ won't be an issue much longer regardless."

"I'm surprised you've lasted this long," Urizen growls. That's V's victory, though; it's Urizen trying to get the last word in. Luckily, V doesn't particularly care about having the last word.

Urizen releases the roots that bind them and drops them both. Nero's high enough in the air that the impact sounds painful; V was barely above the ground, but he still takes a moment to recover.

Urizen turns to go—and as quickly as he does, is simply gone.

V groans. His whole body feels like it might give out any moment, except, unfortunately, his lingering arousal, which has remained uncomfortably present. Still—Urizen could return at any moment. They should take care to be gone if he does. So, somehow, V retrieves his cane and struggles to his feet.

—And then falls again, pitching over helplessly as his legs buckle under him. This time, though, he doesn't hit the hard stone, instead falling against Nero's bare chest as he extends his arm out to catch him. He somehow made his way over to V in the time it took him to stand, even in his state.

"...Nero," is all V manages, weakly, collapsing against him. Nero shifts so V's arm is around him, his weight supported across his shoulders.

"Don't push yourself, V. Damn, you look terrible," Nero's voice remains rough, but the concern in it is still apparent. 

It _almost_ distracts V from the molasses-slow realization that before Nero had rearranged them, his crotch had been pressed against Nero's thigh. If Nero had managed to remain unaware of V's arousal before, there's no way he could have missed it now. V's head jerks upright.

Nero keeps his head turned forward and doesn't look at him as he takes a few steps forward, almost dragging V along with him. He's just going to act as if it didn't happen, then. Like a gentleman. A cocktail of relief and disappointment washes through V, and he tries to clear his mind enough to at least get his feet under him as they shuffle along.

"We need to get back to Nico, and... get me some new clothes." Only a touch of hesitation. "And then... you're going to explain everything." There Nero's voice gets harsher, uncompromising. 

Fair enough, V supposes. "Yes. I will." 

"Good. You gotta let me help you, V. And I can't do that if I have no idea what's going on."

V chuckles to himself. "I _don't_ have to let you help me, actually. There's not much hope for me now, anyway. You'd be better off leaving me here and focusing on yourself."

"I'm not going to do that," Nero says, sharply.

"Of course. 'So sung a little clod of clay, trodden with the cattle's feet.'"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Nero mutters.

"It means... I know. And thank you. And..." V's breathing is labored even trying to engage in walking. "...I hope you'll forgive me."

"...Stop talking. We'll get into it when we're back at the van." Nero shoots a look at him, finally. "And for the record, I'm pretty sure you just saved my life, so you've got some credit to work with."

"We'll see," V says. 

Somehow, even as his body flakes away at the touch of the air, with Nero supporting him he still has some hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Poem is "The Clod and the Pebble," by William Blake, of course. Full text:
>
>> "Love seeketh not itself to please,  
> Nor for itself hath any care,  
> But for another gives its ease,  
> And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."
>> 
>> So sung a little Clod of Clay  
> Trodden with the cattle's feet,  
> But a Pebble of the brook  
> Warbled out these metres meet:
>> 
>> "Love seeketh only self to please,  
> To bind another to its delight,  
> Joys in another's loss of ease,  
> And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite." 


End file.
